When the Wolf comes home
by Sarah d'Emeraude
Summary: "Could you… Paul sighed. Could you drink that elsewhere?" "Why?" Of course Daryl wouldn't let go of him without some explanations. "I don't like alcohol." he said. In which Paul Rovia reveals a dark story from his past, and Daryl confesses things, too.


**Hey everyone!**

 **I'm back again with these two, because of a dream I made (that's weird, when you put it like that considering the topic of this story..). This work really looks like a previous one that I already wrote, "Pretty Boy", because the story that Paul tells Daryl is remotely the same, and this story is kind of a "non spoiler" version "Pretty Boy" and how Paul could have told Daryl about his past abusive relationship(s) way after the war with the Saviors.**

 **Once again, all mistakes are mine, and I'm sorry in advance if you find any. I hope you'll like this story anyway!**

 **xx**

* * *

Paul had never liked alcohol, nor drunk people.

So when Rick had proposed, after Negan's defeat and the newly found peace treaty binding Alexandria, the Kingdom and Hilltop, to have a party and bring as much alcohol as they could find, he was the only one to despise the idea. He didn't say a word, of course, because he knew how much everyone needed it, after years of staying sober and ready for battle even during the night. It was the best way to get everyone to relax real fast, and he knew that the leader of Alexandria didn't mean to be irresponsible.

Truth was, they had found a way to avoid any surprises if anything was to go very bad very fast because of eventual walkers outside, and had set guards everywhere around the walls of Alexandria, people that didn't wish to drink or proposed themselves for duty. Having a party wasn't risky, now that everything was at peace, and finally, one by one, the leaders of the different communities had agreed to retrieve some alcohol during supply runs and prepare the celebrations that they would all attend.

This was why, on this night, Alexandria was celebrating.

Ezekiel and Carol had come for the occasion, and so did Jesus, Daryl and Maggie. Rick and the others in Alexandria were as excited as children during Christmas eve during the entire day, and Paul had to hide his winces and frowns around everyone's excitation. No one seamed to mind the young man though, and it was fine by him. Until a certain point.

The night fell, and the celebration began. Everyone was drinking, laughing, eating the meat that Daryl and Aaron had hunted the day before, and most of all, everyone was happy. It was a sight, after so many months of war and losses to see everyone smiling, gathered around the same table.  
Everyone but Paul, sitting in a chair at the end of the assembly, playing with the meat in his plate with the tip of his fork. Each glance around was tightening his stomach, and seeing Rick, Daryl, Maggie -who had given birth and was now allowed to drink alcohol- with big smiles made him feel even more uneasy. Because all of these smiles were accompanied by drinks of strong beverage, and he couldn't stand the sight any longer.

Getting up, he didn't glance back when leaving the street as quietly as he could. He walked for a while, enjoying the muffled noises of the party and knowing that his friends were having fun, before stopping in front of one of the houses. He knew for a fact that it was abandoned, because Rick had insisted a few times that he should come live in Alexandria with them, as Maggie was now the new leader of the Hilltop. Nothing was holding him back there, but somehow, he was still hesitant. He sighed, pushing the front door and entering the big house.

It was way too big for himself only, as did all the houses. But he couldn't hide the fact that a kitchen, a functioning bathroom and most of all, a double bed was tempting. He sighed again, sitting on the floor in one of the corners of the room, closing his eyes. The floor was cold and hard against his ass and he could have sat on the couch, but the proximity with the earth had a real familiar feeling. He felt good on the floor, the cold and hard surface against his body. Inspiring deeply, he kept his eyes closed, focusing on his breath.

« What'cha doing here? »

Unaware of the time that had passed, Paul jumped on his feet, eyes opened and wide, ready to jump. Way too focused on his meditation, he didn't hear the front door opening. He relaxed a little when he realized that it was only Daryl, the only person still capable of surprising him.

« I'm meditating. » replied the younger man, sitting on the floor once again.  
« Hum. »

Daryl didn't seam convinced, though he didn't say it out loud. He was holding a beer in his hands, and brought the neck of the bottle to his lips before taking a long sip.

« Could you… » Paul sighed. « Could you drink that elsewhere? »  
« Why? »

Of course Daryl wouldn't let go of him without some explanations.

« I don't like alcohol. » he said.

Daryl shrugged.

« You ain't the one drinking. »

Paul wanted to groan. All he needed was some quietness, but he wouldn't be able to get that as long as the hunter was there.

« I can smell it, though. »  
« Can you now? » asked Daryl, his right eyebrow twitching.

Daryl had lived with the younger man for a while, after Jesus had freed him from the sanctuary. And he knew for a fact how the hunter behaved when he was being stubborn, and this time was one of them. Obviously, he had seen him leave the party and wanted some explanation. Sadly, Paul was really not in the mood for any of this today.

« Daryl. Please. I don't like alcohol. »

This time, his tone was almost pleading. And somehow, his tone of voice or his vulnerable face maybe, Daryl saw something that convinced him. He stayed silent for a couple of seconds, before getting up from the couch and heading to the kitchen. He emptied his bear on the sink, rinsing it afterwards and disposed of the bottle. When that was done, he got back to the couch, falling on it without grace whatsoever.

« Why don't ya like alcohol? » he finally asked, his eyes fixed on Paul.  
« I just don't like it, that's all. »  
« Hum. »

Once again, Daryl didn't believe him. Paul sighed.

« I don't like what it does to people. »  
« What d'ya mean? »  
« I don't like how people react to it. »

This time, the hunter frowned. Paul knew that the words had spoken to the older man, because he finally nodded.

« Yeah. My dad was a real asshole when he drank. Not that he wasn't when he was sober, too. »

Paul had seen the marks all over Daryl's body. Living with the hunter for a few months, they had basically seen each other naked more than once. He had never questioned them, though. Because he knew that it wasn't his place to ask.

« I'm sorry about that » he finally replied.  
« Yeah, me too, I guess. »

Closing his eyes again, Paul felt his fingers twitch. Daryl had spoken about his past for the first time, it was only fair to reciprocate.

« I… Huh. My ex boyfriend was a real asshole when he was drunk, too. »

Daryl knew that he was gay. He had never explicitly told him, but he was never shy about the whole thing. The hunter didn't mind, and they had never talked about it. It was a first though, to say the words « boyfriend » in front of the redneck.

« I'm sorry. » said Daryl.

Paul smiled.

« Yeah, don't be. I was an idiot. »  
« Him drinking wasn't yer fault » replied Daryl.  
« No, but me staying was my fault. »

It had been a while since he had told anyone about this particular part of his life. Truth be told, he didn't remember talking about it with anyone but his therapist, before all of this.

« What happened? » finally asked Daryl.

Paul looked up at him, surprised.

« What, do you really wanna hear the whole story? »

The hunter didn't blink.

« You don't have to feel sorry for me, Daryl. »  
« I don't. »

And it was true. If there was anything that Daryl Dixon didn't do, it was to pity people. And Paul wanted to smile at the bluntness of his words, because he knew that it was true, and that he didn't ask to satisfy any kind of weird curiosity. If Daryl asked him, it was because he was offering a comforting hear in a world that didn't have the time for it.

« Okay. » he replied, softly. « Well… huh. I met him in a bar. Pretty stupid thing to do, to trust someone you met in a bar, right? »

Daryl huffed a little laugh.

« I was often in bars, before all of this. I can't contradict you on that one. »

It was Paul's time to chuckle.

« I took him home, because… Well, I was twenty one, I thought I knew everything about life I and was mostly doing shit to prove everyone that group homes and bullies never did anything to me when I was all but confident about anything in my life. So this guy taking interest in me… nothing could go wrong, right? » He smiled at Daryl, who was still listening carefully. « He ended up staying one night, then the other, and he never left. »  
« Ouch. » said Daryl, shaking his head.  
« Well, I thought it was the most amazing thing at the time » replied Paul with an amused smile. « But I should have known that someone with no friends or family whatsoever was trouble. But I was twenty-one, I was in love or so I thought, so I started missing classes and skipping friends meeting to stay with him. He was nice, all charming and cuddly, a bit possessive and rough during sex but… I didn't really mind at that time. »

Paul had no idea what he should keep for himself out of respect for Daryl, but he couldn't stop now that he had began talking. He hoped that the other man didn't mind, and kept going.

« But then he started being all picky about everything. The way I cooked, the way I did things, the way I was behaving… I wasn't really good at anything, and I started being afraid of what he'd say when he was coming back from work. No more cuddles, little attentions, it was all about the sex and most of the time I didn't even want to get in bed with him because I didn't feel confident enough. He was criticizing everything, including my body and behavior, and it really didn't help with the sexual libido. »

Daryl nodded, staying silent for Paul to go on.

« He wouldn't let me go out and see my friends, but I didn't really thought about it. I lost them, because they were tired of waiting for someone who never called or texted. So they just… gave up. But it wasn't the worst. The worst was the alcohol. »

He looked at his hands, playing with his fingers nervously before continuing.

« When he was getting drunk… I hated that. He smelled like the beers he was drinking, coupled with vodka and whiskey, you know? And he'd say things to me, things that he wouldn't even remember when he had sobered up the day before. He'd hit me, too. On my ribs or back so that it wouldn't show if anyone asked me about it. Once, though, he got over excited and punched me in the face. Broke my nose, I had to go to the emergency room and it was the single most humiliating thing I had to live in my life. »

He didn't realize his eyes were full of tears until one of them rolled down his cheek.

« And the nights when he was drunk, he'd push me against any surface available, forcing himself inside of me… » he shook his head, erasing his tear with the back of his hand. « And I was stupid enough to stay. For almost two years. I hated myself, yet I stayed. »  
« Ain't stupid, Paul » replied Daryl, voice low but reassuring.

The younger man looked up, almost surprised to find Daryl still sitting on the couch. The hunter looked hesitant, and Paul suddenly understood that he wanted to come over and sit next to him. Incapable of saying anything, he mentioned for the other man to come.

« I had nowhere to run, didn't have friends anymore, no family, no parents. I didn't know if I was capable of leaving. »  
« But ya did » whispered Daryl, now sitting on the floor next to him.

His breath smelled like beer and smoke, but weirdly, Paul found it comforting for the first time in his life. Probably because it was Daryl, and that somehow, Paul trusted him with his life now.

« Yeah, I did. One day, I just left. Left everything behind, and never came back. »  
« Ya did what others could never do, Paul. »

Paul really, really liked the sound of his name in Daryl's mouth. It was the first time that he didn't call him Jesus, that night.

« Ya left, when I never could » finally said Daryl, looking at him in the eyes.

The younger man fought back a shiver.

« It was your dad, Daryl. »  
« But he was an asshole. And I couldn't leave. »  
« I'm so sorry. »  
« Me too. »

They stayed silent, seated side by side and looking at the feet for a long time. Then, Paul spoke again, his voice steadier than with his last words.

« That's why I couldn't stay, tonight. I wanted to, I really did… but the smell, I couldn't bear it. »  
« It's alright » assured Daryl, shrugging. « The party was shit anyway. »  
« Are you saying you missed me, Daryl Dixon? » asked Paul, a little smile in the corner of his lips, pushing his fist against Daryl's shoulder.  
« In yer dreams, Rovia. »

They both smiled to each other. Yes, somehow, they would both be okay.


End file.
